'Interpol,' Interpol

Interpol's bright lights are about to go out.

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Bad sign: Putting on a new album and forgetting you’re even listening to it because it’s so uninspired.

Interpol’s latest isn’t engaging in the least. To say it’s a bore would be saying too much, because at least boredom is a reaction.

This is a band at its best either plodding slowly along or having a sly pep to their step, not in-between. But that’s where this record stays.

An easy target for the blasé is frontman Paul Banks’ singing. On the band’s debut, Turn On the Bright Lights, Banks didn’t sing as much as drone — but it was perfect. It matched the atmospheric swells of darkness exuded by the rest of the album. Here, the vocals get lost in the forgettable riffs.

There’s no sense in getting angry about this. Just let it fade into the walls.